You Still Catch My Eye
by Fanatical Writer
Summary: After a year of pretending their kiss never happened, Penelope and Derek are both ready to burst at the seams! Follow-up to my one shot Mistletoe & Morgan.
1. Prologue

_A/N: Couldn't let Christmas go by without some M/G lovin'! This is a follow up to my one shot, Mistletoe & Morgan. Although it was written two years ago, it was just one year ago in this story. You don't have to read it, but I do think it'd be more fun for you if you did!_

_Enjoy! (Thank you for the prompts, Sara! I hope you like with I did with them.)_

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><p>Prologue (The Resurrection of the Chocolate Chip Cheesecake Incident)<p>

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><p><em>Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, but the very next day, you gave it away…<em>

If Hilary Duff was right in front of her, Penelope Garcia probably would have punched the poor young woman right in the face. As if she didn't think about Derek enough (_especially_ on the day of the F.B.I.'s annual holiday party) this bitch had to sing about it!

Although, in all fairness...she hadn't actually given him her _heart._ Just a bit of a kiss on the mouth. Could a 'bit of a kiss' make your thighs quiver? She wasn't sure anymore…in fact, she wasn't sure about anything.

Derek had gone on his merry frickin way, acting like nothing had ever happened. As if he'd never kissed her (ok…so _she'd _kissed _him.) _But she sure as hell hadn't made her _own_ toes curl, dammitt! And then he'd—

She looked down at the plate that was unexpectedly placed in front of her, and then at its carrier.

She couldn't help but grin at her best friend. Yes, she was miffed about the year that had gone by without another kiss, but he didn't need to know that! As far as he was concerned, she was still just 'good ol' Penelope, Best Friend Extraordinaire.' Happy go lucky as she'd always been. This was, after all, a season of merriment. And they _were _at a Christmas party. "For me?" she asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes in a teasing manner.

"Who else would I give chocolate chip cheesecake to?" he asked, that disarming grin still on his face. "Isn't that _our _thing?"

"Yes," she agreed with a smile. "That's _our _thing."

"Oh," he said, placing a drink down in front of her. "Try it with this."

"What's that?" she asked, pointing to the fancy glass filled with the pale pink cocktail.

He took the stool next to her and held up a fork. "It's called an 'Angel's Delight,'" he informed her.

"What's in it?" she asked with a frown as she stared suspiciously at the glass.

"Gin," he answered.

"Gin?" she repeated. "Anything else?"

"I'm sure there is, but I have no idea what," he admitted with a wink. "I only ordered it because it reminded me of you." He reached out his free hand and ran his index finger across her bottom lip. "It's pink, it's creamy…and rumor has it…" His lips lifted, widening his grin. "It's absolutely delightful."

Penelope abruptly snagged the fork form his other hand and scooped a large piece of cheesecake into her mouth before he saw her panting. For God's sake, if he was into pink and creamy…well, suffice it to say she had something else that would fit _that _bill! And she was more than willing to give him a taste!

If only he'd ask...


	2. A Boyfriend for Christmas

"What's wrong?" Derek asked after she'd taken her third bite of cheesecake.

"Nothing," Penelope insisted.

"You're not moaning," he commented.

"I…excuse me?" she asked, blushing prettily. It was something he was rarely able to make her because of the flirtatious nature of their relationship, but he loved it when her cheeks turned pink.

He grinned widely. "One of my favorite Christmas memories is of you _enjoying _your cheesecake," he said in a low voice.

The way he said 'enjoying' sent a shiver down her spine and practically rendered her speechless. And he was referring to the _incident! _Didn't he know that the statute of limitations was up on the _incident_?He wasn't aloud to talk about it anymore. He'd missed that window of opportunity eleven months ago. If his delicious mouth wanted to talk about _that_, he should have done it long before now!

"I can't…enjoy my cheesecake with you staring at me like that," she said anxiously.

He closed his eyes and she leaned forward, elbowing him in the ribs. With a chuckle, he opened them again.

"Let's hear _you _enjoy it," she said, holding her fork out toward him, a generous piece of the treat resting on the prongs.

He lifted an eyebrow and leaning forward, took the fork between his lips and closed his mouth, pulling back ever so slowly. His gaze was on hers the entire time, and she couldn't have torn her own away if she'd wanted to. As he pulled the last morsel of cheesecake from the fork with his lips, he let out a low growl.

"Easy there, Cujo," Emily said as she took the stool next to Penelope.

Penelope couldn't help but giggle when Derek glared at the brunette.

"What are you guys doing at the bar?" Emily asked.

"Well…I was wallowing," Penelope admitted cheerfully. "But then Derek interrupted."

"Isn't that always the way?" Emily asked.

"_You _would know," Derek shot back, not ready to forgive her for cutting his moment with Penelope short.

"Way to spread the holiday cheer, Morgan," Emily said dryly. She turned to Penelope. "So…there's a man from accounting here…his name is Mitch…and he was asking me about you."

Penelope raised her eyebrows. "Mitch from accounting? Yes, I know Mitch," she said.

"And?"

"And I'm not interested in listening to him go on and on about his ex-wife." Penelope winced. "Again."

"Whoa…whoa," Derek said. "Again? What do you mean again?"

"I went out on a date with him a few months ago," she informed her best friend.

"You didn't tell me about that," he said disapprovingly.

Penelope lifted her eyebrows. "So you could 'vet' him? No thanks. I like to date a guy for a bit before I find out all of his annoying habits. You ruin that for me when I tell you who I'm going out with."

"I'm just watching out for you," Derek insisted.

"I know you are," Penelope said. "And as much as I appreciate that, you're like the big, bad wolf, Derek. You scare men away from me."

Derek frowned when Emily laughed. "How is that a _bad _thing?" he asked.

Penelope cleared her throat. "How do I explain this…umm…Derek—momma needs to get laid."

"Aaaand that's Emily's cue to leave," she said as she took her drink from the bartender. But first she turned to Derek and grinned. "You have a little…ahhh…" She waved her hand in the air beside her head. "Steam coming out of your ears," she commented smugly before walking away.

"I could help you out with that," Derek remarked off-handedly.

Penelope laughed. "How?" she asked teasingly. "Do you have a list of men you approve of all lined up waiting for me?" She slid down off her bar stool and patted him on the chest a few times. "I don't need your help getting a date, Derek," she told him, then grabbed her cocktail. "Thanks for the drink."

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><p>A list of men he approved of all lined up and waiting for her? Was she <em>blind<em>? He really thought he knew women, but here he was, giving every signal known to woman, and Penelope had just walked away from him.

He'd even thrown out that little crumb of information about her cheesecake from last year hoping to get a reaction, but he hadn't gotten one. He'd kissed her for God's sake, and she'd just let him leave. Acted like she didn't even remember it!

For God's sake, there were women he'd kissed who had called him for _weeks _hoping to get a bigger taste of Derek Morgan. _Months! _And rarely did any of them get a call back! Despite his reputation, he was very selective about who he invited into his bed. He had to be…there were some crazies out there! And now…he was trying to choose Penelope, and she wouldn't let him!

"Hey," Rossi said as he appeared at Derek's side. "Beer," he said to the bartender before turning back to the younger man. "What's got your boxers in a bunch?"

"Nothing," Derek growled, taking a swig off his own bottle.

Rossi grinned. "Bet it has something to do with a certain blonde," he pressed.

"You know, Rossi," Derek snapped. "Sometimes you're too damn nosey for your own good."

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><p>"You know, <em>all <em>I want for Christmas is for Reid to finally make the first move. I mean…he's an _amazing _kisser, and his hands…well, they know exactly where to go and what to do. But somehow, his clothes always stay on. What is _up_ with that?" Emily asked, eyeing her boyfriend as he made his way to the bar. "I mean, we've been together for three weeks!"

Penelope couldn't help but laugh, and JJ smiled. "Yes, well, wait until you've been together for four years," she said dryly. "All you'll want for Christmas is for him to pick his towels up off the floor once in a while."

Emily laughed at her friend's response. "What about you, PG? What do you want for Christmas?"

Penelope sighed as she thought about that. "I just want a boyfriend for Christmas. And…you know…it doesn't even have to be long term. Just someone to warm my bed for the weekend. I don't think I've ever been so horny in all my life," she said, taking a long sip of her light pink cocktail.

Emily laughed. "I'd loan you Spencer…but I'm not sure he'd be able to help."

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><p>He hadn't meant to listen, he really hadn't. But as he'd been rounding the corner on his way back to the restroom, Derek had heard Emily talking and her story had given him a good chuckle. He'd begun to think he needed to have a talk with the young doctor about his girlfriend's impatience.<p>

But then Penelope had begun talking…and just like that, he'd formulated a different plan.


	3. A Special Delivery

"God, Em," Penelope said with a shake of her head. "Again?"

"Emily's drunkenness at these Christmas parties is beginning to become a tradition," Reid remarked dryly.

"Hey…you weren't complaining last night," she reminded him.

"That's because I was too busy cleaning the contents of your stomach off my shoes!" he shot back.

"Yeah, and that's _all _you were doing," she grumbled.

Penelope had to bite back a grin at her friend's statement. It was so very obvious that she was sexually frustrated—to everyone but Reid, apparently.

"I blame the bureau. What kind of establishment throws their Christmas party on a weeknight? With an open bar?" she asked.

"Here comes Hotch," Penelope warned quickly.

Prentiss immediately looked away.

"Lose the glasses, Prentiss," Hotch ordered as he strode past the three.

With a sigh, Emily did as ordered.

"Holy Hannah!" Penelope exclaimed. "Even my magic bag of tricks isn't going to help _that_!"

"You talkin' 'bout turning tricks again," Derek joked as he came to stand beside Penelope. "Yeesh," he said when his gaze fell on Emily. "I didn't know the dead could walk."

"Yeah, mmm hmm," she said with an enthusiastic nod. "They can punch, too."

Derek grinned. "I'll be sure to steer clear," he told her.

"You know what you need?" Penelope asked.

"Sleep?" Emily guessed.

"Besides that. You need a healthy dose of shopping. With moi," Penelope informed her friend. "Tonight. I insist."

"I'd love to Garcia," Emily said unconvincingly. "But Reid and I are flying out first thing in the morning, and we need to pack."

"Oh," Garcia said with a pout. "OK, then."

Derek dropped his arm casually around Penelope's shoulders. "I'll go shopping with ya, Momma," he offered.

"No, it's OK," she told him. "I was looking forward to some girl time."

"I could talk in a high pitched voice," he coaxed.

But she shook her head. "I don't really need to go shopping, anyway," she told him.

Derek's eyes filled with concern as he watched her walk away.

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><p>Penelope sat in her office absently playing with the pink feathered pen in her hand. Of course Emily didn't want to go shopping tonight. Why would she when she could spend the evening with her sort of boyishly hot boyfriend?<p>

JJ had left yesterday with Will for Louisiana, Hotch would have Jack to spend the holidays with, Rossi was going to spend it with…well, she wasn't sure of _this _ones name, but by the grin on his face lately, he was spending it with _someone._ Emily and Reid were leaving for Vegas tomorrow, and Derek was leaving as well, for Chicago, to spend the holiday with _his _loved ones.

_There really was nothing like the holidays to make you feel lonely,_ she thought. Of course, for Penelope, loneliness was her _only_ constant companion. Quite an oxymoron, that.

So she'd do what she always did: change into her rattiest, most comfortable pajamas, plop down onto the couch, and watch a handful of holiday classics with a nice glass of hot chocolate to warm her hands. She'd wrap herself in an old afghan that her mother made and take a deep breath, pretending it still smelled like her. With a sigh, Penelope forced herself to get back to work.

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><p>She arrived home later than usual, as she'd stopped off to get herself enough groceries to last through at least the day after Christmas.<p>

She dropped the sacs on the counter, closed the front door behind her, and took her coat off. Humming 'It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas,' Penelope started putting her groceries away.

Once the chore was done, she decided that a bubble bath, along with the entire cheap bottle of wine she'd just purchased, was in order. So she grabbed the bottle—no glass needed as she was fairly certain she'd be finishing it—and walked out of the kitchen.

And came to a rapid halt.

There, sitting in the middle of her living room floor, was the largest box she'd ever seen. It was elegantly wrapped in shiny silver paper, but it wasn't enough to entice her. Her eyes darted around the room in a panic. Someone had been _in _here! In her home! Silently, she backed out of the room, turned on her heel, and fled toward the front door, stopping only long enough to grab her purse with her cell phone inside off the counter.

She ran to stand in the front yard—there were so many windows facing her, one of her neighbors was _bound_ to be looking—and sent up a silent prayer that Derek's flight wasn't leaving until morning. Quickly, she hit number one on her speed dial.

She began to freak out when he didn't answer immediately, then sighed in relief when he finally picked up.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice sounding muffled.

"Derek?" she said, her voice full of tears.

"Penelope, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Someone's been in my house!" she exclaimed.

"Some…one's…been…in your…house?" he asked. "How do you know?"

"Because there is this huge present just…sitting in the middle of my floor, and to my knowledge, the big guy in the red Santa suit still doesn't exist!" she said, speaking so quickly that her sentence sounded like one big word.

"Awww…you got a present?" he asked.

"Yes!" she answered impatiently. "Derek, I need you to come over right now!"

"Penelope," Derek said patiently. "I have to pack. In case you've forgotten, I'm leaving for my mother's house tomorrow."

"But…but…but…"

"Penelope, is there anyone in your house _now_?" he questioned.

"I don't think so," she told him. "I came in and put my groceries away before I even realized it was there."

"Is the box ticking?" he continued.

Penelope frowned. "I didn't hear anything."

"Then go inside and check it out. I'll stay on the phone with you," he assured her.

"You..want me to go inside and _open _it?" she asked shrilly.

"Well, it _is _a present," he reminded her.

"But I don't know who it's from!"

"Maybe there's a clue inside," he told her.

"But—"

"I can't talk anymore, Penelope," he told her, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I'm trying to catch a mouse, and I don't want to scare it away."

Penelope stood there for a moment in shock, not believing what she'd just heard. He wanted her to go inside and open it? Oh, for God's sake! With a sigh, she walked slowly and quietly forward.

"I'm heading inside," she told him softly. "Now, I'm walking across the kitchen." Then a few seconds later, "Entering the living room."

She cautiously approached the monstrous box and reached for the big bow on top, giving it a hearty tug. The sides of the box immediately fell apart, three to the ground, one hindered by her body.

"Surprise!"

Instinctively, Penelope swung her purse at the head of her 'present.' It was followed by a painful groan.

"For fuck's sake, Garcia!"

Penelope gasped. "Derek!"


	4. Chick Flicks, Snow Flakes, & Romping

_Author's Note: So, after last chapter, I think we can all agree that the 'must have' gift of the season is a Derek-in-the-Box! LOL _

_Thank you all for reading and reviewing!_

_~Angie_

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><p><strong>Chapter 4 - Chick Flicks, Snow Flakes, &amp; Romping...Oh, My!<strong>

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><p>"OK," Penelope managed to get out from between her ragged breaths. Her adrenaline rush hadn't quite yet subsided. "I was going to apologize for hitting you upside the head, but then I realized that <em>you're <em>the one who broke into _my _apartment! I thought you were chasing a mouse!" she said in an accusatory tone.

Even as she was scolding him, she reached her hand out to help him to his feet. Her purse had knocked the wind right out of him; it was amazing what an unexpected hit could accomplish.

She dropped her bag next to her feet and placed her hands on her hips. "Would you care to explain?"

"Sure, as soon as I get my breathing regulated," he answered caustically, throwing her a dirty look.

_That _was the wrong thing to do after the trauma he'd just caused her. "Oh, no!" she informed him angrily. "You do _not _get to give _me _the hairy eyeball, Derek Morgan!"

"I was trying to do something nice for you!" he exclaimed in disbelief.

"By giving me a heart attack?" she shot back.

With a sigh, Derek threw his hands in the air. "Clearly this was a bad idea!"

Penelope was about to agree with her best friend when she noticed his appearance for the first time since he'd jumped out of the box. His chest was bare—how in the hell had she missed _that?_—as were his feet. In fact, the only thing he was wearing were a pair of red fleece pajama bottoms with a single sprig of mistletoe covering his crotch, and a little saying on the waistband. She had to squint to read it:

_Take a lookie at what's underneath the mistletoe._

Penelope couldn't help it—her eyes flew to the area just between his muscular thighs and studied the bulge that was always there. Unless Derek Morgan walked around in a constant state of arousal (which, she was willing to concede, was a definite possibility) the man had it goin' on in spades.

She felt her cheeks begin to burn and lifted her gaze to his heated one, then scowled at the knowing grin on his face. "Derek," she said with a sigh. "_What _is going on? I thought you were home packing for Chicago."

Derek cleared his throat. "Change of plans," he muttered. "I'm yours for the holiday."

"You—" Penelope tilted her head to the side. "Your—mine—huh?" she stammered.

Derek sighed. "I heard your conversation with Emily at the bureau's annual Christmas party. About what you wanted for Christmas? I decided I was going to give it to you!"

"Derek, what are you _talking_ about?" she asked in complete confusion.

He leveled his gaze on hers as he waited for it to sink in—he didn't have to wait too long.

"Oh," she groaned as she plopped down onto the couch. "Oh, sweet Lord in Heaven."

"Yeah," Derek said, sitting down on the other end.

"OK," she said standing, her tone firm. "We…are…just…going to pretend this never happened! Because clearly you didn't hear the conversation in its entirety, Derek. I'm sure you just heard the 'having a guy around the house part,' and that's not all I'm looking for."

"No," Derek said as he, too, stood. "I'm pretty sure I heard it all."

Penelope stood there for a moment, staring at him unblinkingly. She had to keep her eyes on his face and force them not to wander down to his washboard abs. "No. No, I don't think you did."

"I did," he argued.

"Derek—"

"You want someone to warm your bed for the weekend," he replied simply. "And Penelope?"

"Yeah?" she answered more quickly than she'd have liked.

He shook his head. "I didn't bring an electric blanket."

Sweet Lord! Had someone turned the furnace up in here? She was suddenly so hot she felt a single droplet of sweat travel down the valley between her breasts, but that wasn't all. Although, she wasn't sure she could attribute the pooling between her thighs to the heat. Lifting a hand, she gave her collar a tug. "Derek," she squeaked. "I should have been more thorough. I'm talking chick flicks—"

"I love a feel good movie," he interrupted.

She sighed. "Cutting out paper snowflakes—"

"Awww…reminds me of Christmas with my mom when I was a little boy," he countered.

"And romping. _Lots_ and _lots_ of romping," she informed him with a defiant lift of her chin.

He took a step forward and tapped her on the nose. "Lucky for you…I'm into romping," he said in a low voice.

Penelope sighed impatiently. "I mean with _me_."

Derek quirked a brow at her. "You think I'm going to have a problem with _that_?"

_Of course he wouldn't_, she thought. But who would he be pretending she was? Penelope laughed nervously. "Listen, Hot Stuff," she started, her eyes pleading with him to understand. "I _know_ your intentions are good—"

"No," he interrupted her harshly. "No, they're not good. They're not good at all," he informed her. "Do you want to know where my intentions stem from?"

_Not really,_ she thought, but didn't quite dare to say it. She'd seen that angry look on Derek's face many times before, but never had it been directed at her. For the first time since she'd known him, she felt a bit of fear—but not for her safety. She had a feeling she was in store for a tongue lashing—not the good kind—and she didn't even know what it was for!

"My intentions from come a fucking _year_ of waiting to kiss you again! My intentions come from a place so damn deep inside that I can't even control them. One taste of _you_, Baby Girl, and it unleashed the beast in me.

"You want to get laid? Here I am. And I'm telling you, another man even _tries _to come near your bed—or get you into his—and I'll kill the bastard. Because Darlin', the _only_ man I approve of for you…is _me._"


End file.
